Spider Legs
by That Girl55
Summary: "She was so glad she'd killed that cat." Musings about the origin of the Other Mother, Oneshot, hints of WybieXCoraline.


**A/N- I can't remember how old Coraline is in the novel so I've made her 13 and in 8th grade. For the purposes of this story when she returned from her journey she and the Cat had the ability to speak to each other telepathically. **

()()()

For the rest of her eighth grade year, Wybie was the only one Coraline talked to.

She had other friends of course, like every self-respecting thirteen year old does. Besides, the more people she was around, the farther she felt from the Other Mother's grasp. But the girls who surrounded her knew nothing of another world, one just on the other side of her living room door. They talked about dresses and the formal coming up, about boy bands and term papers, and Coraline tried to relate, she really did, but she grew bored quickly. When you knew something so magical and supernatural existed, how could you transition back to the normal?

Then there was Wybie-and he might not have understood, but he tried to. Him and the cat, they were her true friends. She could talk to them about her nightmares, could call for them in the middle of the night and they would appear at her window, ready to guard her even in sleep. She had trusted them with her life before, and they had not failed her.

()()()

High school was the year things changed, the year Wybie started coming around less. When she asked Cat about it, he laughed at her, muttering something about how oblivious humans were to the changes going on around them before sulking off.

But Coraline wasn't oblivious, she'd seen how Wybie had grown no matter how much he'd avoided it. Gone was the lanky, boney little boy and in his place was someone she barely recognized. His long hair was worn back in a bun more days than most, and he'd put enough meat on his bones to go out for the football team in the fall. He was still tall, towering over her tiny frame, and he still hunched over to hide it.

"It's a habit," He'd say, blushing as they walked from class to class.

Cat told her that other things of his were growing too, but Coraline made sure not to ask about that.

()()()

Freshman year ended and Wybie came into her life again, and the nightmares stopped. She allowed herself to believe that the Other Mother was gone for good. Sometimes, though, she'd catch glimpses of her in the mirrors, or peeking around corners or through windows. Cat suggested she might have some kind of PTSD, but Coraline laughed it off.

She allowed herself to fall asleep in Wybie's arms, and believe that she was safe.

Wybie was the oldest in the sophomore class and he traded his bike in for a car the first change he got. It was a huge Dodge Ram, complete with flood lights and a brush guard. He said it had been his grandfather's before he passed, and his grandmother would rather stay with her trusty Buick, so he got the truck.

Coraline liked it; it was strange, like he was, and it didn't hurt that she got a ride to school.

The more time they spent together, the more rumors flew around them. Coraline was pregnant with Wybie's baby, they were secretly related, Wybie was only with her for her money. At nighttime Wybie and Cat would sneak into her bedroom and they would laugh at the rumors together, trying desperately not to wake her parents.

Then came the nights that Cat stopped coming. They still saw him, of course; they watched as he nodded a goodbye in the mornings as Wybie drove to school, or they'd see his tail wandering around outside the window. He wasn't saying goodbye, he was giving them some alone time, he claimed.

That was when problems started to arise.

Coraline kissed him one afternoon when he was dropping her off at the Pink Palace, and the taste of her lip balm stayed with him all of that day. The next morning, when he picked her up for school, it was he who kissed her. The nights they spent together were no longer empty, and they no longer bothered to keep quiet.

()()()

Senior year came around, and if it weren't for Cat Coraline would've forgotten about the Other Mother altogether.

Cat wasn't around as much anymore though, either. She'd hear him in her head sometimes, asking if she could pick up some sort of cat food on the way home. When he asked she would smile, remembering how she'd tamed the stray. Wybie didn't like to talk about it, but it was his cat too.

One night, Wybie didn't come over, and everything was thrown out of orbit.

The tapping on her window came from a disembodied hand, Mother's face was everywhere in her dark room, taunting her with button eyes and a needle. She called for Cat, but he was nowhere to be found.

The next morning they discovered him clawed to death by some animal.

"The Other Mother's back," Coraline assured Wybie. "I saw her hand last night. She must've done this."

And Wybie shook his head, none too eager to believe her, and told her he'd seen a pack of wild dogs around a couple weeks ago.

"C'mon, Cor, you know how dogs and cats are. Cat's living it up in kitty heaven right now."

Coraline didn't believe in heaven, not after all she'd seen, but she wasn't about to debate that with Wybie.

"Stay the night tonight," She told him. "Then you'll see."

Coraline let Wybie in that night, tucked her body inside of his when she heard familiar footsteps on the stairs. It wasn't just the hand that was back anymore, it was the whole body.

"Coraline, dinner's ready!"

And she screamed, closing her eyes.

When she opened them, Wybie was no longer beside her.

()()()

The next morning, Wybie picked her up in his truck.

"Sorry I couldn't make it last night, Coraline. My grandma had a bad feeling, she kept a close watch on me all night-nearly had me sleep in her room."

()()()

The Other Mother was back, and Coraline had let her in.

()()()

Four more weeks, she told herself, four more weeks of living with her and then it's off to Wybie's for the summer.

But Coraline never made it to Wybie's.

By the second week, the voice was right outside her door.

The next week, she kept waking up in the Other Mother's clutches.

When the fourth week rolled around, Coraline woke up with buttons in her eyes and eight legs.

She screamed for Cat, begging him to explain, and she called Wybie sobbing, but he didn't pick up the phone.

Coraline could hear the little door calling her home, until one day she went through it.

()()()

The Other Mother wasn't always a bad person, but, in certain circumstances, anyone can become mean.

Coraline made a new doll and had the mice bring it to the house, and through its' eyes she watched as her parents fretted over her disappearance, how Wybie seemed to know where she'd gone, but didn't know how to help her.

"Cat would know what to do," He'd mentioned once, while he was sitting in her room.

Coraline fought back a snarl-how she hated cats. She was glad she'd killed that last one, the horrid black thing. There'd be more though, there always were. Cats liked to lurk where evil hid.

Coraline was bored easily, especially in this world she'd torn apart. She busied herself with creating a new one, a new masterpiece for the next child to come. She practiced her doll making-creating and recreating people from memory. Coraline waited for the day when her family left the Pink Palace and a new one moved in-preferably one with a child.

Oh, how she longed to be called Mother.


End file.
